Every Time
by KatyMM
Summary: Dean is caught in a death grip. Nothing to do with the Deal. Sam has to make a decision. But it may not have been the right one.
1. Chapter 1

"Sam."

"Yeah?" Sam didn't turn around. In a brief respite from researching, he was deeply engrossed looking up people he knew from college on MySpace.

"Sam!"

Annoyed, Sam dragged his attention away from the screen.

"What?"

As he turned, he saw his brother pinned to his bed by a gigantic dark green claw, which was attached to a huge, heavily muscled, shiny-skinned arm that curled out from underneath Dean's bed.

"Fuck!" Sam started towards the bed but stopped and went instead to the weapons bag, rummaging hurriedly though it.

"Hurry up Sam!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

He found the axe he had been looking for and, standing over the bed, using both arms, he raised it over his head.

"Stop!"

"What? Why?"

Dean was lying very pale and still, hardly daring, or able, to breathe. Four huge, curved claws were embedded in his torso, spanning the base of his sternum down to his abdomen. A fifth "thumb" claw penetrated his side, at his waist. Strangely, after the initial lightning fast whir of motion, when the enormous thing emerged from underneath the bed and sunk its claws into him, there was no further movement from the beast.

Sam could see Dean's lips moving and had to concentrate to make out the whispered words.

"... don't know …what it is." Beads of sweat had broken out on Dean's forehead. His arms were splayed to either side of the bed, hands gripping the blankets.

"What? No! I'll get it off you and then we can deal with it!" Sam raised the axe and brought it down across the wrist of the beast, severing the mighty clawed hand from its gargantuan arm. The axehead was buried in the mattress.

The severed claw instantly convulsed - dragging Dean into a ball, knees curling up and shoulders lifting off the mattress. It looked for all the world like he was protecting a grotesque foetus as his arms wrapped around his torso, enveloping the vicious hand.

Sam had a moment where Dean's life flashed before his eyes. Every time his brother had put a band aid on a cut, every time he had winked when Sam was cheeky but clever. Every time Dean had stepped in to protect him from bullies at whatever school he was at. Every time their dad was too harsh. Every single time he had wanted something, Dean had been there, doing his damned best to make sure he got it.

_Oh shit, shit, shit!_

Every instinct told Sam to go straight to Dean, but a lifetime of training made him look under the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

There was nothing there. It didn't make any sense. There had to be a body attached to that gruesome arm. Yet where was it?

Sam leant on the edge of the mattress as he levered himself up from the floor, kicking the severed arm across the floor as he did so. Dean's body had relaxed again and he now lay, unconscious, with the claw horrifically, still fully embedded. Sam tentatively gripped one of the claws, giving a very gentle tug. It didn't move and he decided to leave it alone until he could figure out what he was dealing with. A pang of guilt assaulted him as he remembered Dean's warning. And yet, what else could he have done?

Dean's shallow, rapid breathing and pale complexion worried him. When he looked closer he could see Dean's eyes were moving constantly beneath his closed eyelids. Was he dreaming?

Sam called Bobby.

"What's the problem Sam?"

"Bobby, I'm sorry to call you this late, b.."

"Sam, tell me what the problem is. In fact, no, I guess this is about Dean, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"Oh come on Sam, whenever one of you two calls me it's always about the other one. You boys are forever steppin' in crap. Beats me how you both got this far. Now what is it this time?"

Sam ignored the sarcasm.

"Bobby, can your cell accept photos?"

"No Sam, I still rely on smoke signals and carrier pigeons to communicate."

When Sam didn't respond Bobby relented. "Okay, Sam, send me a picture, though why you can't just tell me what's going on…"

"Bobby, I'll send you a picture and then maybe you can tell me what to do, because right now, I am stuck for answers."

Bobby didn't miss the tremor in Sam's voice.

"Okay son, I'm waiting."

Sam took a picture of the claw and another of the severed arm and sent them both to Bobby. Moments later his cell rang.

"Where's the rest of it Sam?"

"I don't know."

"Whaddya mean you don't know?"

"Bobby, the arm came out from under the bed, I cut it off but there was nothing under the bed or anywhere. I don't know where it is or what it is and Dean has that thing stuck in him, and…."

"Okay Sammy, we'll figure it out. I'm coming to you. Where are you?"

Sam gave him their location. It would be a good 3 hours or more before Bobby could get there.

He went back to his brother's bedside. Dean was covered in a light sheen of sweat. There was no blood and nothing for Sam to bind or wrap or cauterise. Dean was lying, fully clothed, on top of the bedclothes. So Sam settled for laying a sheet from his bed over his brother's prone form. He wasn't sure if that was for Dean's benefit or his own. Yanking the axe out of the mattress, he leant it against the wall next to him. Then he settled in to keep watch over Dean while he waited for Bobby. He grabbed the laptop too, but after a few tries at searches on "disembodied arms" and "bodyless claws" and a few other varieties, he ran out of ideas and discarded the laptop on his bed. After a while he fell asleep.

Dean dreamed.

_He was four years old. Everything was great! Well, apart from the fact that Jenny in kindergarten was bugging him. Kept trying to kiss him! Ewww!! __ Other than that, he had a new brother. He wasn't sure about it at first. His mom got tired and then she got real big and then she went away. And when she came back, she had this strange noisy thing in her arms. And it smelt! And it was ugly – like, really ugly. Kinda had a weird shaped head and red and blotchy and wow, noisy! But the worst thing was the smell! Double Ewww! But Mom and Dad said it was my baby brother – whatever one of those is. Anyway, seems I have to help look after it. 'Cos if I do, I get extra candy and they seem really pleased with me and I get to watch cartoons. Mom and Dad are weird!_

"_Aw! Bed? Already? C'mon! Just a few more minutes – please?"_

"_Whoa! Wheeee! Ha ha ha. Whoa!"_

John scooped up his son and flew him up and around and up and down. Dean squirmed but held on tight as his dad whirled him around the room. This was so much fun, apart from being a bit scary. Specially when the ceiling came up so fast and… and whoa, stomach lurching up now..

"John!"

John stopped whirling his son around the room. Lowering Dean quickly to the floor, and giving his son a furtive wink, he looked at his wife.

"Aw, come on, it was just a bit of fun before bedtime."

"John, you know how excited he gets!" Mary was tired, but the two beaming faces staring back at her made her forget about playing the angry mom.

She took Dean's tiny hand in hers and leading her pyjama clad son up the stairs, she cast a glance back at John and smiled.

"I'll be up soon sweetheart! Just going to check the news and I'll be right up." He locked all the doors and turned off the lights and then dropped down onto the sofa and flicked the TV on.

Sam jolted awake. Dean was groaning and writhing in his sleep. The claw in his abdomen seemed to be closing and tightening even more. Dean convulsed. Every muscle in his body tensed and tears slid down his face. Sam watched in amazement, as the claw retracted and shrivelled.

As gently as he could, he pulled the lower part of Dean's shirt away and looked for the wound. Before his eyes, the hole in Dean's body healed itself.

"What the fuck?"


	3. Chapter 3

Sam checked the time. An hour or so had passed since he spoke to Bobby. He eyed the limb across the room. Maybe he should burn it. But maybe Bobby should see it first. God dammit! He felt useless.

He jumped as his cell rang.

"You okay Sam?"

"Uh, are you like psychic or somethin' Bobby? I'm going out of my mind here!"

"Sam, come on, it's gonna be fine"

"No! Bobby you don't understand. One of the claws just …….uh…"

"WHAT?"

"I don't know, it just sorta shrunk and…. withdrew or something. Dean's still asleep and I think he's dreaming cos he's kinda agitated, but Bobby the wound is gone! It's completely healed!"

Sam waited for a response from Bobby. He was hoping Bobby would say this was a good sign. All he heard was background driving noise and …well, nothing else really.

"Shit!"

"Bobby - what?"

"Sam, I'll be there as soon as I can. Where is the arm you cut off?."

"Why? Do you know what's going on Bobby? Should I burn it?"

"No! Under no circumstances do anything to it. Just leave it alone til I get there." He was gone.

Sam looked again at the arm. Had it grown? It seemed like there was more of it, or was he just imagining it? Used as he was to all manner of gruesome scenes, for some reason just the thought of that arm sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

Dean shifted slightly on the bed, one arm flailing briefly and feebly before he went still again. Sam didn't think he had ever seen his brother look so weak and pale. He felt for a pulse and flinched at the feel of Dean's clammy skin. The pulse was there but thready and faint. Dean's chest hardly rose and fell at all, but all the while, his eyes moved constantly under his eyelids.

"_Touch him again – go on – I dare you."_

_Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. The smear of blood didn't surprise him. It wasn't the first time he'd been picked on. Probably wouldn't be the last. He started to gather his books and pens. Time to get out of the way._

_Dean squared up to the overweight boy. At 11 years old he was shorter and lighter than the bully, but of course not only __could__ he take this little shit, he was damn well going to._

_Dad was so angry. Dean stood cowed before him as his father's words flayed him. He took it though. It was only right. The boy he had punched to the ground had no way of defending himself. And even though he was protecting his brother, it wasn't right to use his training against another human being the way he had. Finally the tirade ended. _

"_Go to bed Dean."_

"_Yes sir." Walking away, he stopped and turned._

"_Dad?"_

_John Winchester ran a hand, distractedly, through his hair. He tried so hard, but Dean just didn't seem to get it. _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_I know you are son. Just go to bed now alright?"_

_Dean couldn't fail to pick up on his father's defeated air. He made his way to the room he shared with Sam. Without turning on the light, he climbed, dejectedly into his bed. He lay on his back for a while, but all he could see when he shut his eyes, was his 8 year old brother sprawled on the ground with a split lip and a hurt expression looking up at that bastard who had taken his candy bar. Dean's fists clenched without him even realising. _

"_Sammy. You awake?"_

"_No."_

"_Yeah, you are. You okay?"_

"_Dean, I'm asleep. Leave me alone. 'kay?"_

Sam watched in horrified fascination as a second claw shrivelled and retracted out of his brother's body. Again, the wound healed almost instantly. His eyes shot towards the severed arm. At first he couldn't see anything happening, but eventually it became obvious something hideous was growing out of that disembodied limb.

Fuck! What the hell was going on? He grabbed his cell and shakily called Bobby.

"Sammy, what?"

"The arm! Bobby it's turning into something!"

"Aw goddamit! Right Sammy I need you to listen real careful okay?"

"Sammy?"

"SAMMY!!!"

"Yeah, Bobby, I'm here. Sorry"

"What the hell were you doing? No, nevermind. Look Sam, you said Dean is dreaming?"

"Well yeah, it looks like it."

"I am pretty sure he is manifesting."

"Manifesting? You mean like.."

"Sam we don't have time to have an intellectual discussion about this. You have to keep Dean alive, and you can't do anything to damage that thing growing from the arm. D'ya hear me?"

"Yeah…"

"SAM!!!"

"Uh, yeah, sorry Bobby. Fuck, he's manifesting? But how…"

"Samuel Winchester focus on what I am saying. Keep Dean alive and leave that thing alone. Do You Understand Me?"

"Yes Sir!"

Bobby raised his eyes to the roof of his truck. "John Winchester, you bastard! If you weren't dead I'd shoot you myself!"

"Okay Sam. If there is any way you can get Dean awake, just enough so he stops dreaming. Then do it. If not. Watch TV or something. I'll be there in just over an hour."

"But.."


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby was gone again.

"Watch TV? Great! Thanks Bobby! "Keep him alive" he says! How the hell am I supposed to do that when I don't even know what's wrong with him?" Exasperated and deeply anxious, Sam studied his brother. If it was possible he looked even paler – his skin was almost grey. He tentatively shook Dean by the shoulder. There was absolutely no reaction. He tried again, more firmly this time. Still nothing.

"Dean – wake up!" He shouted in Dean's ear and shook him quite roughly. Dean murmured but Sam couldn't work out if it was a reaction to his voice or to whatever he was dreaming about. Leaning in close to see if he could make out any words, he got nothing but mumbled sounds, but it was obvious Dean was very agitated.

An idea finally came to him and he slid the knife out from its customary place under Dean's pillow. Then he untied Dean's bootlaces and pulled off his boots, followed by his socks. Very carefully he placed the point of the knife at Dean's heel and drew it up the base of his sole, desperately trying not to draw blood. But Dean's foot moved suddenly and the point of the knife just nicked him. Sam pulled the knife away and looked up at Dean's face. His eyes were open!

"Dean! You're awake!" Which was stating the obvious but who cared as long as Dean had his eyes open at last. Although even as he watched, they were starting to shut again.

"No Dean, you have to stay awake. Come on man, stay with me here." Sam roughly shook Dean's shoulders and when that didn't seem to work; he steeled himself and slapped Dean hard across the face. Dean's head snapped sideways and his eyes flew open as he cast a startled and hurt look at his brother.

"What the hell?" He mumbled, finding speech difficult as his mouth was bone dry. A split second later he remembered the claw and looking down he saw it was still there, though two fingers seemed to have withered. His hand flew to where the holes in his stomach should be but there was nothing – no holes, no blood, and no pain.

"I know! It's the weirdest thing Dean. They just shrivelled up and the wounds healed up straight away, right in front of my eyes. How are you feeling?"

Dean lifted his hand to take the tumbler of water Sam offered to him but realised immediately he didn't have the strength to hold it up to his mouth. Fortunately Sam hadn't entirely let go of it and managed to catch it before it fell.

"Okay, let's get you sitting up." Sam put the tumbler on the bedside table and, putting his arms under Dean's armpits, he heaved until Dean was half sitting. His face was ashen.

"Dean you look terrible."

"Yeah, well dunno if you noticed little bro, but there is a huge fucking claw stuck in me." Despite the sarcasm, his words were barely above a whisper and seemed to drain what little energy he had.

"Well yeah, it's kinda hard to miss Dean. And I see it hasn't affected your sunny disposition."

Sam spotted Dean's eyelids beginning to droop.

"Whoa! No sleeping Dude! Here, have some water." He held the tumbler to Dean's lips but Dean turned his head away. He was bone weary and just wanted to sleep.

"Sorry Dean but if you don't drink this you'll be wearing it."

Dean opened his lips slightly and Sam carefully tilted the tumbler so that a tiny amount of water more or less fell into Dean's mouth. Sam could see his throat working as he swallowed, so he tipped the glass up a second time. Dean swallowed again but his eyes were closing at the same time.

"God dammit Dean! Stay awake or I swear I'll throw this over you!"

"Can't Sam. Too tired. Jus'lemme sleep 'kay?"

Dean's eyes flew open when the cold water hit his face.

"Sam, why are you torturing me?"

"What are you talking about Dean?"

"I'm pretty sure you stabbed me in the foot before and now you're throwing water all over me. And wait! Dude, did you slap me?"

"Yeah, sorry about that, but it worked…and stop exaggerating – I didn't stab your foot, it was a tiny nick."

"Whatever, but why are you cutting my foot up in the first place?"

"Dude, I wasn't trying to cut you, I just needed to do something to get you to wake up."

"And you couldn't use a spoon or something?" Dean's voice rose a notch.

"What can I say? It was the first thing that sprang to mind. I'm trying to help you here Dean."

"Why can't I sleep?"

"Because you keep dreaming."

"So?"

"It looks like if you have a dream, a claw withers…and the wound heals itself"

"Not seeing a down side here."

"And that thing gets bigger." Sam pointed to the misshapen lump across the room. It no longer looked like an arm. In fact it was not recognisable as anything really, but there appeared to be a vein throbbing all down one side of it. Clearly it was alive.

Dean gaped at the grotesque thing by the wall.

"What the hell? Fuck Sam! Why don't you kill it?"

"Can't. Bobby said I should leave it alone til he gets here."

"What the hell for?"

"He didn't say. He'll be here soon, you can ask him yourself. Of course, for that to happen you'll have to stay awake won't you?"

"Not sure I can Sam. I can't seem to keep my eyes open." And even as he spoke he could feel himself slipping back into the comforting darkness.

"DEAN!" Sam bellowing in his ear jolted Dean back to consciousness.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"I hate you."

"Gotta be cruel to be kind Dean."

"Shut up!"

"Nah, I figure annoying you is just as good a way to keep you awake as any other."

"Not really Sammy, you annoy me pretty much all the time – I'm kinda used to it." Dean started to yawn but stopped when it looked like Sam was going to throw more water over him. His shirt was still cold and damp from the last lot.

"There's a can of coke in the ice box. Wanna try it – the caffeine might help?"

As Sam turned his back on his brother, he heard a high-pitched wailing noise coming from behind him and turning around he realised it was coming from the creature on the floor. At the same time, the claw had contracted and its remaining claws were curling deeper into Dean's chest, stomach and waist. Dean's face was contorted in agony and his eyes were locked on Sam's, silently pleading for help. As soon as the claw relaxed its grip, the wailing stopped but Dean was now totally unconscious.

There was a knock on the door – Bobby! Sam let him in and he took in the scene.

"Aw crap."


	5. Chapter 5

"Bobby, what is it?"

"Sam, has he been sleeping the whole time?"

"What? No, he was just awake but then I went to get him a coke and the claw seemed to grab him again and that thing started screaming…" Sam nodded towards the creature.

Bobby sighed. Briefly lifting his greasy, well-worn cap, he ran a hand through his thinning hair before tugging the cap back down low over his deeply lined forehead.

"Okay Sam. Do you remember what I said about manifesting?"

"Yeah." Sam was distracted and slightly panicked. He hoped Bobby had an answer – a cure – _something_ to fix this.

Bobby sat down on Sam's bed. Looking across at Dean, he couldn't miss his ashen complexion. How much longer did Dean have? Two claws had shrivelled and he knew it was just a matter of time before the rest followed. Ordinarily that would be a good thing.

The continuing silence unnerved Sam.

"Bobby, could you please say something?"

"Sam, that creature over there is a manifestation of Dean's psyche."

"What? That thing? But how? Why?" Sam stole a very quick glance at the repulsive thing and turned away again just as swiftly. How could that have anything to do with his brother?

"Dean has created this himself."

"I get that Bobby, but what do we do about it? If we don't do something soon, he's going to die isn't he?"

"Well, yeah he is - and there'll be that other problem too."

"God! What will happen to that thing Bobby?"

"I don't know exactly Sam. I never saw one grow to full maturity before."

"So you know how to stop it then?" Sam turned hopeful eyes on his friend.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He really didn't want to tell Sam the truth, but looking at Dean's frail form and hearing the desperation in Sam's voice, he didn't really have a choice, did he?

"No Son, I only saw this one time before, and your father killed the thing…. and the guy who manifested it."

"What?"

"Look Sam, he didn't know what he was doing. Neither of us had seen anything like it before. You said yourself you wanted to kill this one! "

"Dad killed an innocent person? I can't believe this! After all the lectures about research and preparation and saving people…"

"Aw come on Sam. He had no way of knowing what would happen. Don't be too hard on your dad." Bobby got up off the bed and tried to put a hand on Sam's shoulder but Sam shrugged him off.

"Don't you defend him Bobby! I know he was your friend but you don't know what it was like growing up with him!" Sam's face was flushed with anger.

"Sammy." The barely whispered word immediately caught their attention and both moved to the bedside.

"Dean! Can you hear me?" Sam grabbed Dean's arm.

"Dean, it's Bobby. How about waking up and sayin' hi to me?"

For a brief moment it looked like Dean might open his eyes. Then it became clear he was back, deeply asleep, and dreaming.

"What happened Bobby? Why did he call my name?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was just something happening in his dream."

Bobby examined the claw. A third finger was visibly shrinking right in front of his eyes, and retracting out of Dean's stomach.

"God dammit!"

"Bobby, what the hell are we going to do about this?"

"_There's gotta be somethin that you want for yourself?"_

"_Yeah, I want you to leave the second this thing is over Sam!"_

"_Dude! What's your problem?"_

"_Ha. Why'dya think I drag you everywhere? Huh? Why d'ya think I came and got ya at Stanford in the first place.."_

"_Cos Dad was in trouble. Cos you wanted to find the thing that killed mom."_

"_Yes – that! But it's more than that man! You and me, and Dad. I want us to… to be together again. Want us to be a family again."_

"_Dean! We are a family! I'd do anything for you, but things will never be the way they were before."_

"_Could be."_

"_I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."_

_Dean swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. Nothing was going to get his family together again. No matter how hard he tried, how many evil things he killed or people he saved, he couldn't fix this. He couldn't have this one thing for himself._

Sam and Bobby watched in fascinated horror as the third finger shrivelled and fully retracted. The wound healed instantly. Dean's skin was now so transparent they could see his veins through it.

"Jesus Christ!"

Sam was startled by Bobby's outburst.

"What?"

"I just… I know you said this was happening… crap, I've seen some weird shit in my time, but…"

"But what?

"I don't know what we can do Sam."

"Bobby, he's going to die!"

"I know that Sammy! Christ d'ya think I don't know that?" Bobby instantly regretted flaring up when he saw Sam's grief-stricken face.

"God! What the fuck are we gonna do?"

Bobby's heart bled for the young man. He'd seen these two boys grow up and loved them like they were his own.

"Sam, could you get us some coffee maybe?"

"But…"

"Don't worry; I'll stay right by him Sam.

"What if he goes while I'm gone? I can't leave Bobby."

"He won't! Sam, please, just get us some coffee so we can think this thing through, okay?"

Sam glared defiantly at him, but eventually he left.

Bobby took a moment to breathe. Dean was dying right in front of him. The creature was growing - _developing_. What was Dean dreaming about? What was that thing going to turn into? Looking at it, he noticed it had changed even since he had arrived. Not only was it growing in size, but it was changing shape. It looked like a …well like a baby. A baby with dark, mottled green skin...

He wasn't going to kill a baby, however odd it looked, but that thing was killing Dean.

That thing was _becoming_ Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

In the silence of the shabby room, Bobby struggled for ideas. Tried to think if there was anyone he could call. So many of his old hunter friends were dead now though, and those that were left almost certainly couldn't help him with this. He'd call them anyway, just to be sure. Sam would never forgive him if he didn't try everything.

The door opened and Sam came in, carrying two lidded coffee cartons, and bag of donuts. He looked straight over at Dean, hope immediately fading from his expression as he saw there was no change… at least not for the better at any rate. He didn't really know why he had thought there would be. He'd only been gone 20 minutes.

Bobby took a coffee cup from Sam and carefully prised off the lid. The stupid things were so flimsy he'd lost count of the number of times he'd splashed scalding coffee over himself, but he was damned if he was going to drink out of the ridiculous plastic spout in the lid. Sam's coffee lay, untouched, alongside the bag of donuts.

"You not having any Sam?"

"No! Funnily enough Bobby, the sight of my brother dying right in front of me hasn't filled me with a desperate need for coffee and donuts!" Sam glowered at Bobby, at once mortified by his outburst, but too angry to take it back.

Bobby was taken aback. He'd really only ever seen Sam behave this way with John. It was only when he heard the faintest murmur from Dean's bed, that he finally had an idea.

Sam had gone straight to Dean's side when he heard the barely perceptible sound.

"Dean! Wake up!" He shook his brother's shoulder quite roughly, desperate to get a response.

"Stop that Sam, you stupid idiot!" Sam turned incredulous eyes on Bobby, only to find Bobby holding a finger to his lips, and silently indicating that Sam should move away from Dean and come towards him. Bobby had started scribbling on a scrap of paper. He held it up for Sam to read. "Fight with me" Sam said nothing but turned a puzzled expression on Bobby.

Bobby pointed urgently at the message before speaking again, his tone of voice uncharacteristically angry.

"What the hell is wrong with you Sammy? Why can't you leave that poor boy alone, can't you see he needs to sleep?"

Finally, it dawned on Sam what Bobby was trying to do.

"What the hell would you know about it? I know Dean better than anyone and trust me he doesn't need to sleep now!" He shouted back at Bobby, at the same time, nodding to indicate he understood.

They were rewarded by more unintelligible sounds and agitated movement from Dean's fragile form on the bed.

Sam was encouraged.

"Bobby, I don't even know why I bothered calling you! I waited three hours for you to get here when I could have been trying to help Dean. For all I……"

"Don't you dare! I swear if you try to blame me for Dean dying…"

"Stop!"

Dean was awake! Sam and Bobby quickly moved to either side of the bed and between them, very gently pulled him up, so he was sitting. Sam had to support his head, and as he did so, he saw tears begin to spill down his brother's face. At the same time the creature on the floor started to wail. The two seemed to be inextricably connected.

Sam watched, appalled, as Bobby gingerly picked up the thing and placed it next to Dean on the bed. The wailing stopped immediately, and the tears dried on Dean's sunken, pale cheeks. Dean's arm curled around the creature and his whole body visibly relaxed.

Sam let go of Dean's head and he flew to the bathroom. Bobby heard him retching seconds later.

Dean's eyes had fluttered closed again, but he appeared to be sleeping peacefully and dreamlessly this time, so Bobby followed Sam to the bathroom. Sam was kneeling on the floor, leaning over the toilet. Bobby felt kind of awkward, but the sight of the distraught young man in front of him made him pull himself together. He rubbed Sam's back gently between his shoulder blades until the heaving subsided. Grabbing a washcloth from the sink, he ran it under the faucet to dampen it and handed it to Sam.

"Here Sammy. You okay son?"

Sam took the cloth and buried his face in it. He was pretty sure he was cracking up. Nothing made sense.

"Uh, yeah, sorry Bobby. I'm okay. I just…I don't…I…"

"It's alright Sam. This is pretty bizarre, even for me."

"Really?" Sam didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified. Bobby had seen everything, surely?

"Sam, we need to keep it together and figure this thing out. Are you done hurling?" His words may have seemed a little curt, but there was no mistaking the depth of feeling in Bobby's voice.

Sam got up off the bathroom floor and followed Bobby out to sit at the small table across the room from the beds. For some reason he found he couldn't look at the bed where Dean and the creature lay. Just thinking about it made his gorge rise. Swallowing thickly, he sat down opposite Bobby.

"Okay Sam. I think we need to focus here."

"On what?"

"Dean."

"What the hell do you think I've been thinking about?"

"Keep your voice down Sam."

"Oh! Okay! Let me get this straight. When you say something, I should just go along with it, because you know everything, right? Guess what Bobby? That is MY brother lying there with that thing that YOU put there. That is MY brother dying. You don't have a fucking clue…"

"Sam."

"Fuck off!." Sam dissolved.

Bobby's heart broke. Christ, all he wanted to do was to make it better for Sam. The little guy he had been part uncle, part parent, part friend to since he was born. He adored Sam. He'd have done anything for him.

But not this time.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sam, we don't have time for you to fall apart right now…"

"I'm not falling apart!" Sam turned furious, but still tear-filled eyes on Bobby, who carried on as if he hadn't spoken at all. Sam would never know the pain it caused Bobby to do that.

"Look, I don't know how much longer Dean has. Tell me exactly what you did today. Were you on a hunt?"

For a brief moment it seemed, from the mutinous look he got from Sam, that he wasn't going to answer. But eventually Sam knuckled his eyes dry and began to recount the day's events.

"Uh, yeah. Well, not a hunt. It was an exorcism to get rid of a poltergeist. Nothing unusual. It went fine and the guy who owned the store was really pleased."

"What sort of store was it?"

"What difference does that make?"

One look at Bobby's face and Sam decided to just answer the question.

"It was a general hardware store – the guy said we could take anything we wanted as a thank you. I think he was a bit surprised when we chose a pick axe and a spade.."

"How did this guy know about you boys?"

"Oh, uh, well do you remember the time we had to exorcise the plane?"

"I recall."

"Yeah, well the guy who called us for that job, Jerry Panowski, is a customer at this guy's store. Seems he was actually in there when the poltergeist starting throwing things about. So he gave the guy Dean's number – his name's Grant Redwood."

"And there was nothing at all unusual about him?"

"Who Grant? No. He was just your average guy running a hardware store."

Bobby ran a calloused thumb over his grizzled beard.

"It just doesn't make any sense. Something out of the ordinary must have happened for Dean to suddenly start manifesting like this."

"A trigger of some sort?"

"Yeah, or maybe a curse or somethin'. Sam, how long was the job? Did you do anything else; go anywhere?"

"Uh, well it took a couple of hours to get there, then we were at the store for about 4 hours I guess. That took us to around 3.30. We got something to eat before we left, then it was another 2 hours or so before we got back here."

"And you called me at around 7, so it happened around an hour after you got back right?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Did you guys go out at all? Go for a beer or somethin'?"

"No. We came straight back here. Dean wanted to get a shower and …" Sam paused, mid-sentence.

"And what Sam?"

"We kinda had a fight."

"What about?"

"About the stupid shower. Honestly Bobby, it was nothing – we fight about it all the time.."

"Tell me exactly what happened Sam"

"But what does it matter, it was nothing…"

"Sam! Just humour me, okay?"

"Alright. Well he said he was getting in the shower first and I said "why do you always get to go first?" and he said "cos I'm the oldest".

"Christ! Could you two BE any more juvenile?"

"Look, do you wanna hear about it or not?"

"Sorry, you're right. Go on Sam." Bobby tried to put on a conciliatory face, but it was a complete failure. All Sam saw was a rather odd grimace. With a puzzled shrug, he continued.

"Anyway, there isn't much more to tell. I pointed out I was the one with fertiliser in my hair and that it was only fair I should go first."

Movement from the bed instantly grabbed their attention. As they watched, Dean clutched more tightly onto the creature and it emitted a quiet whimper.

"He's listening to us."

"Sam, _they're _listening to us."

Bobby could see panic building in Sam. He had to get his focus back.

"How did you get fertiliser in your hair?"

Sam dragged his gaze from his brother back to Bobby.

"The poltergeist didn't take too kindly to me exorcising it. Started throwing stuff around."

"Did it get Dean?"

"No, I don't think so…"

"Could you see him the whole time?"

"Yeah… no wait, there was one time but it was just a second." Bobby nodded.

"It was right near the end. I looked down to check I'd got the wording right and when I looked up again Dean was on the floor. But he got right up Bobby, it wasn't a problem."

Bobby sighed. It wasn't much to work with. These boys were hit and thrown around all the time. Inwardly cursing his stiff joints, he got up from the chair and went over to Dean's bedside. Kneeling on the floor he started to check Dean over for any physical injuries. He didn't get far. There was a lump at the back of Dean's head and as he touched it Dean arched up off the bed. Bobby had to lunge across the bed to stop the creature from falling off the side as Dean released his grip on it – apparently in agony.

Bobby managed to get a hand to it but it squirmed around violently.

"Sam! I could use some help here!"

Sam watched the events unfold and though he knew he should be there helping, he couldn't bring himself to go anywhere near that thing. He definitely couldn't touch it.

"Sam, get your ass over here right now!"

"I can't!"

"Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam was rooted to the spot. He wanted nothing more than to go and help his brother and Bobby, but that thing seemed to have some hold over him and he didn't think he could move a step towards it. He was utterly terrified of it.

Dean had gone back into an agitated dreaming unconsciousness. His eyes moved rapidly in every direction beneath his eyelids. Bobby had no choice but to let go of the creature, which immediately rolled off the side of the bed. It screamed as it landed on the floor and all Sam could do was clamp his hands over his ears. His whole body shook violently and he felt like he was going to pass out.

"Sam?"


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby watched, stunned, as Sam fell to the floor, curling into a ball and shaking uncontrollably.

"What the fuck is going on around here?" Moving to the other side of Dean's bed, he picked up the creature and put it back next to Dean, who's arm again, instinctively, drew it in close to his side. As before, the agitated dreaming stopped and he appeared calm.

Bending down to Sam, Bobby tried to rouse him out of whatever stupor he was in. Sam wasn't unconscious but seemed to be in a state of unrelieved terror. He was mumbling and Bobby leant in closer to try to make out the words.

"I can't, I can't. Don't make me!"

"It's okay Sam, you don't have to. C'mon now. Help me get you up. You big lunk."

"I can't do it!"

"Shh, Sammy, you're okay. You don't have to do anything."

It took a while but eventually Bobby coaxed Sammy up off the floor and got him over to his bed, where he curled up again, shivering violently, with his back turned to Dean and the creature.

Bobby stood looking at the two fallen Winchesters. What the hell happened? And what the hell was he going to do about it? He sat down and took a sip of coffee – it was cold. Grimacing, he put it down. Shit! What to do? This was all kinds of fucked up. Reluctantly he reached for his cell and searched for and found a number he really didn't want to call.

"Bobby!! What the hell are you calling me for this late at night?"

"Aw, come on Missouri! You know it has to be bad for me to call!"

"What – and that means I don't get to shout at you?"

"We really don't have time for the pleasantries…"

"Okay. What's up with those boys?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be calling would I?"

"Don't you raise your voice to me!"

Pausing to take a deep breath, Bobby tried again.

"Missouri, Dean is manifesting and has created some kind of creature. He's fading away right in front of me. And now, Sam has gone into some sort of catatonic state and I have no idea why. Got any suggestions?"

That shut Missouri up – for all of 10 seconds.

"Bobby, why'd you wait so long before calling me?"

"But….."

"Nevermind! Tell me everything you know."

After Bobby had recounted everything he had heard from Sam, he waited for Missouri to speak. The seconds stretched out in much the same way as his nerves, until he wasn't sure he could stand it. But finally Missouri was back on the line.

"I don't think it was just an ordinary poltergeist."

Bobby knew Missouri well enough to know she wasn't finished - he waited, glancing anxiously from Dean to Sam. Nothing had changed, which at this point, was probably a good thing.

"Bobby, you said Dean had a lump on his head?"

"Yeah, and when I touched it, it seemed to hurt. Well he reacted anyway. Why, what are you thinking?"

"Go look at it – don't touch it, just try to get a good look at it and tell me if you see anything unusual."

Bobby wasted no time and sitting on Dean's bed he very carefully rolled Dean over onto his side, avoiding moving the creature out of Dean's grasp. It was difficult to push the fine short hair away from the lump on the back of Dean's head, but eventually he spotted an angry-looking red spot. It looked like nothing so much as an insect bite. He described it to Missouri.

"Yeah, just as I thought. Now, you said Sam had fertiliser thrown at him?"

"That's what he said."

"I don't think it was fertiliser. You need to run him a bath and put holy water in it. Do whatever you have to do to get him in the bath and make sure he is totally submerged."

"You mean, like a baptism?"

"Something like that. He's been "infected" in a way. Bobby, when the boys are okay, you'all are gonna have to have a discussion with that guy from the hardware store."

"Why?"

"No time now Bobby. Get that bath sorted out and get Sam into it. He should be fine."

"What about Dean?"

"One thing at a time. Call me back when you're done." Missouri hung up.

Bobby ran the bath as instructed, pouring the contents of a silver hip flask into the water.

"That should do it."

Now, all he had to do was get a giant, shaking, mostly unresponsive Winchester into it.

He laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam flinched as if he'd been burned, and if it was possible, he seemed to curl up into an even tighter ball on the bed. There was no way on earth Bobby could manhandle the youngster.

"SAMUEL WINCHESTER! GET OFF THAT BED RIGHT NOW AND GET IN THE BATH!"

Bobby coughed, his throat felt a little sore, but he was relieved to see his barked orders being obeyed. Like an automaton, Sam got off the bed, still shivering as though he had a fever, and ambled towards the bathroom. Nothing would make him look towards his brother, as he passed the bed. He stepped into the bath, fully clothed. The water was warm, but still, his whole body shook as if he was lying in ice, and Bobby was a little nervous about trying to submerge his head.

But, there was no point thinking too much about it. Bobby leaned over the bath and placed firm hands on Sam's shoulders and pushed hard. With surprisingly little resistance, Sam's shoulders, neck and then head sank quickly beneath the surface. And then the thrashing started. Sam reacted violently and instantly, legs kicking and arms grabbing Bobby's. Bobby let him up. As Sam's head broke the surface, he opened his eyes and his mouth, dragging in air. He stared, wild-eyed, at Bobby.

"What the f…"

"Sammy! Are you okay son?"

"Wha… I… what the hell am I doing here?"

"C'mon, get up out of there, I'll explain once you get dried off."

Bobby left Sam to dry off, and called Missouri. She picked up immediately

"So, that worked. Now what about Dean?"

"Well, that's the easy part over. Good job Sammy's back with you. You're gonna need him."


	9. Chapter 9

This is the final chapter! Thank you to anyone who has been reading, but especially to those who reviewed and/or put it on story alert!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bobby sighed.

"I had a feeling you were gonna say that."

Sam passed him, sopping wet, with his hair plastered to the sides of his head, and water dripping into his eyes and all over the floor. He dragged out dry clothes from his duffel bag and shuffled back to the bathroom, a look of complete confusion crinkling his forehead the whole time.

"Bobby, you say the claw still has a finger and thumb left?"

"Yeah, the finger's in his chest and the thumb is going in through his side."

"And you realise that if they both retract, he's going to die?"

"Yep, that's the way it seems to be panning out."

"And if you try to do anything to the creature he has manifested, he will die then too?"

"Yeah, I get that too Missouri, not to press you at all but could we move this along..?"

"Honey, it's been a while since I came across something like this. It'll be fine, I'm sure."

Bobby didn't think she sounded all that convinced, but what was worse, she'd called him honey. That really could not be good. Still, she was probably Dean's only chance at this point and she couldn't make things any worse, could she?

Sam emerged, in dry clothes with just damp hair to show for his unexpected bath. He could see Bobby talking on the phone and soon worked out who he was talking to.

Soon after that, Bobby hung up and tossed the cell onto Sam's bed.

"Hey Sam. You okay now?"

"Yeah, well I'm dry at any rate. What happened Bobby?"

"You don't remember anything?"

"I remember throwing up, then I got nothin' til I woke up in the bath."

"Well you recall that fertiliser you said you got all over you?"

"Sure."

"It wasn't fertiliser."

"The bag on the floor said fertiliser."

"Well that could have been a coincidence or deliberately thrown about at the same time as the stuff you were infected with."

"Infected?"

"Not in the medical sense Sam, _our_ kind of infection. Something that made you terrified of Dean and the creature. Whoever or whatever used it on you, didn't want you to be able to help Dean. At one point you couldn't even look at him. The bath had holy water in it."

"Good job you knew what to do, if you hadn't been here, Dean would've…"

Sam glanced at his brother who was lying completely motionless on the bed. If it wasn't for the very slight rise and fall of his chest, you could swear he was already dead.

"Yeah, well you can thank Missouri - she told me about the holy water."

"Did she tell you how to help Dean too?"

"Yeah, and it's just as well the holy water worked because you are going to have to hold that creature."

Sam's eyes widened and he cast a nervous glance at the thing on the bed, still clutched to his brother's side.

"Yeah, okay. I'll do whatever needs to be done Bobby."

"Right, first off we need your first aid kit – you've got some really fine tweezers in there I hope?"

"I think so. It's in the car. I'll go get it." Grabbing the keys to the Impala from the pocket of Dean's leather jacket, Sam left. Bobby nervously scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"Okay Dean, hope you're going to co-operate with us here."

Sam was back in no time and opened out the first aid kit. Fishing out the tweezers he passed them to Bobby.

"These do?"

Bobby examined them briefly.

"Yeah, these should be okay. Better just sterilise them I guess." He took out a Zippo lighter and held the tips of the tweezers in the flame for a few seconds.

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Dean has a lump on the base of his skull. There's what looks like an insect bite in the centre of it, only it's not a bite. It's a splinter."

"A splinter did this to Dean?"

"Yep, but not just any splinter Sam. This would have to have been from a tree or a beam that someone hung themselves from, or was hung unlawfully."

"Unlawfully? You mean like in the old days of the wild west - lynch mobs?"

"Yeah, that sort of thing. If someone had a mind to and knew the incantation, they could put a curse on the tree or the beam and then any splinters from it are lethal. The wood from the tree could be inadvertently used in building houses and porches, window frames, you name it. But whether you get it by accident or deliberately, if you get a splinter the curse preys on your mind, bringing back traumatic memories or making your worst nightmares seem real and making you paranoid. Most often people end up killing themselves as they are slowly driven mad, In Dean's case, he has manifested this creature as an outward sign of what's in his mind."

"That's pretty ugly."

"Dean's seen some ugly things in his time Sam."

"Yeah, I guess he has. Wonder what he's been dreaming about?"

"Nothin' good, that's for sure. Come on, you ready for this?"

"Definitely! What's the plan?"

"Right, I need to get that splinter out. But Missouri is pretty sure, if he is still in contact with the creature, whatever will to live Dean still has left, will transfer to the creature as soon as I do."

"Okay, so that's why you need me to hold it, but why can't we just lock it in the bathroom or something?"

"That's exactly what we are going to do Sam. You only need to hold it long enough to take it away from Dean and get it into the bathroom and lock the door. Then I'll need you back here to help keep Dean from struggling."

"Well what's the big deal? I can do that!"

"Not half an hour ago, you couldn't! Anyway, that's not the only problem."

"No, God forbid, it should only be one problem."

"Let's save the sarcasm til Dean is okay Sam?"

"Bobby, I'm sorry. Go on."

"Okay, when you take the creature away, Dean is immediately going to start dreaming again and you know what happens then."

"Another claw retracts…"

"And he's a step closer to death."

"Bobby, there are only two claws left."

"Exactly, and those dreams don't need to be very long either, so we don't know how long I will have to find the splinter. The whole time I am poking around the back of his head with these tweezers, he's likely to be acting up like crazy."

"So you need me to keep him still so you can find the splinter. I get it."

"Listen Sam, even if another claw retracts, I need you to stay calm. If you start freaking out on me your brother is gonna die."

"Bobby, I got it! I'm not going to freak out!" Sam flared up, angry that Bobby had so little faith in him.

"Alright, take it easy, I didn't mean nothin' by it. Shall we just get this done?"

Sam breathed out slowly and realised that Bobby was nervous and just trying to cover all the angles. _Come on Sam, get a grip – Bobby's not the enemy here._

"Sorry for snapping at you Bobby. Guess I'm a little tense."

"Don't worry about it - you're not the only one."

Bobby moved to the head of Dean's bed and Sam went to the other side. As soon as Bobby gave him the nod, he pulled the creature away from Dean's grasp and ran with it held out at arms length, to the bathroom. The second it was removed from Dean's side the creature started screeching and writhing about. It was incredibly strong for its size, but Sam managed to keep a hold of it until he was in the bathroom. He dumped it unceremoniously into the bath and quickly left, shutting and locking the door behind him. The screeching echoed loudly behind him as he went back to Dean's side.

Dean had instantly gone back to vivid dreaming the moment the creature was taken away and tears were coursing down either side of his face. As before, he was completely silent, but it was clear there was plenty going on behind those tightly closed eyes.

_Sam was gone! His little brother, whom he had virtually brought up single-handedly, had applied to College and got in! How could he not have told him what he was doing? _

_Dean felt a physical pain in his gut the day Sam told him he was going. He'd started to shout but Sam just stared at him in that fucking tragic way he had and he'd stopped mid-sentence. Afraid he was actually going to cry in front of his brother; Dean had stormed out of the room and driven off in the Impala. As the pain gripped his stomach, he had given the tears free rein and great, gulping sobs were wrenched from his throat. He'd had to stop driving as he couldn't see the road through the flood of tears. He couldn't ever remember crying like this and it was an alien feeling, but he just couldn't seem to stop. How could Sam do this? Why would he want to split the family up? And apart from anything else it was dangerous for Sam to be on his own – who would look out for him? How could he, Dean, live with the loneliness stretching ahead without his brother, and best friend? _

_After a while the sobs subsided and, having no tissues, he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. By the time he got back to their rented apartment, he had his glib, unconcerned face firmly back in place, and he never let it slip again until after Sam had gone. When that day came, he was pretty damn sure the crushing pain in his chest meant his heart had actually broken. _

Sam and Bobby both saw the remaining finger shrivel away from Dean's chest. All that was left now was the thumb at his waist. True to his word, Sam, though terrified inside, kept outwardly calm. Bobby moved Dean's head to the side and pushed away the short fine hairs at the nape of his neck. The lump was clearly visible. Motioning for Sam to take hold of Dean's arms, he pushed the fine points of the tweezers into the centre of the lump. Dean's whole body arched up off the bed and he tried to thrash his arms but Sam had a firm grip and held him as securely as he could. Still, it was difficult for Bobby to keep Dean's head still enough to grasp the tiny sliver of wood. The shrieking from the bathroom grew louder and it seemed the creature had managed to get out of the bath, as they could now plainly hear it scratching frantically at the door.

It was tricky, but Bobby finally had a decent grip on the splinter and swiftly pulled it out, carefully placing the tweezers on the bedside table.

Almost instantly Dean stopped thrashing and the thumb fell away from his side. Only this time, it left a deep wound in its wake, which immediately started to ooze blood. At the same time the noise from the bathroom stopped completely. For a moment there was total silence in the room.

"Sam, go check the bathroom."

While Sam headed towards the bathroom door, Bobby set to work with the first aid kit, cleaning and patching up the wound. It looked like it might be infected as there seemed to be something else oozing out from it, along with the blood. Still, Dean was alive so an infection wasn't going to cause him too much concern at this point.

Sam, meanwhile, cautiously opened the bathroom door and peering in, found nothing! The creature was gone, the only evidence it had been there at all, being the claw marks on the back of the door.

Returning to Dean's bedside he confirmed to Bobby what he had already suspected - that the manifestation had disappeared.

"How's he doing Bobby?"

Watching the steady rhythm of Dean's breathing, and even a slight return of colour to his cheeks, Bobby felt hopeful that Dean was going to be fine.

"I think we did it Sam."

"I wish he'd wake up."

As if on cue, Dean opened his eyes, blinking under the glare of the bright overhead light. His gaze swivelled quickly from Bobby to Sam and then switched to look down at his chest, looking for the claw. Then the pain in his side hit and his hand reached across to feel the bandage there.

Sam was instantly at his side. "Dean! Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. You gonna fill me in on what the hell happened?"

"Plenty of time for that Dean. You just get some rest and we'll tell you all about it later."

"Hey Bobby." Dean attempted a grin at his old friend, but the smile didn't quite make it to his eyes. Fortunately neither Sam nor Bobby seemed to notice. In dreaming them, Dean had relived some of the most crushing, hurtful times of his life and some kind of hollowness or melancholy had settled in his heart that he couldn't quite shake. Keeping his game face going was getting harder with every knock and let down he suffered, but he still managed it – nearly every time.


End file.
